Catching Petals
by Katfosel
Summary: It's the 75th annual Hunger Games, the third Quarter Quell, and only relatives to the existing tributes will be chosen. What will Katniss do when she is forced to mentor Prim in the nightmare she thought she escaped...?
1. Reaping

_This is how I think Catching Fire should have gone... reviews make Katniss happy :) if you don't review she will shoot you :3_

KATNISS' P.O.V.

I sat in front of our shiny flatscreen TV, yawning. We were waiting for President Snow to make the announcement about the special twist for the third Quarter Quell. Every 25 years it was something nasty, another way to humiliate the districts.

"For the first Quarter Quell, to remind the districts that they brought the destruction of the Dark Days on themselves, the people voted on which tributes should compete," the president droned. I imagined pitting friend against friend, parent against parent, and shuddered.

"For the second Quarter Quell, to remind the districts that two of their children died for every Capitol child, twice the number of tributes were picked to compete." That was the year Haymitch won. An arena where you were against 48 tributes instead of 24. 24 had been more than enough for me.

A small boy dressed in a pure white uniform came up with a wooden box. President Snow took it from him, opened it, and drew put a white scroll. Opening it easily, he unfurled it and cleared his throat.

"For the third Quarter Quell, to remind the districts that even the strongest among them have weaknesses, only the relatives of the existing victors will be picked from."

My mother sobbed and hugged Prim tight as she began bawling in terror. I was still, feeling like someone had punched me in the gut with an icy fist. Only the relatives of the existing victors.

I had only one sister.

Prim.

I couldn't stand it, couldn't stand to look at her. I ran out of the house as fast as my legs would carry me, to Peeta's. It was the only place I could think of. Bursting in the door, I found him sitting on the couch next to Haymitch, jaw gaping open. Without preamble, I flung myself onto his lap, hugging him and sobbing hysterically.

He jumped a little in surprise, then tenderly put an arm around my shoulder. His two brothers were too old to enter, and Haymitch had no relatives left. Which meant Prim was a guaranteed tribute. As for who would be the boy tribute, I had no idea. Right now I didn't care.

I calmed down a little, sniffling and holding on to Peeta's shirt like it was a lifeline. Then I realized something even worse.

"I'm going to have to mentor her," I whispered hoarsely. "I have to mentor my thirteen-year-old sister in the Hunger Games." I burst into tears again.

Peeta just continued stroking my hair, at a loss for what to say.

o.O.o

As I straggled back into my house, I found my sister still weeping in my mother's arms. Wrapping mine around her as well, I buried my face in her mass of blond locks. "I won't let you die," I whispered hoarsely. "No matter what. You're staying right here."

Her sobbing gradually quieted and bright blue eyes stared up at me, determined. "Last time you promised you would win for me," she said softly. "This time I promise… I'll win for you."

"And I'll do whatever it takes to help you do it," I promise, gathering her into my arms again. Dreading the moment when I have to let go, as she steps onto the ladder of a hovercraft and is flown to living hell.

Also know as, the arena.

o.O.o

Effie was unusually emotional this year, sniffling as she scrabbled uselessly around in the girl's crystal ball, croaking "Ladies first" in a slightly broken tone. It takes her forever to locate the single slip of paper, and then she's tottering over to the microphone and reading out as clearly as she can, "Primrose Everdeen." For the second year in a row. Except this time, I don't volunteer. _Can't _volunteer. I would if I could – even if it meant going back to that hellhole – because anything would be preferable to watching my little sister die in the way I watched Rue die. Rue. Just her name brings back the worst memories of my Games.

Since I don't have any brothers, and Peetas' are too old to be eligible, the worst happened. The genius who decided Gale was my 'cousin' just damned Rory to the hellhole. Because Gale's other little brother is too young, and of course there can't be two girls. All the better for Posy.

Gale doesn't blame me – he knows it isn't my fault – but I've noticed him giving Peeta dagger glares for weeks since the announcement. Effie quickly snags the single slip within the boys crystal ball and reads, "Rory Hawthorne." Rory takes his place on the stage beside Prim, who glances at him helplessly. Smiling a clearly fake smile, Effie announces in her fake-cheery voice, "The tributes of District 12 – Rory Hawthorne and Primrose Everdeen!"

Then we're loaded onto a train and sent to our rooms. I give Prim's hand a reassuring squeeze – at least I'll there for her the whole time. And Peeta came this year in place of Haymitch, although our old drunken fellow victor was dragged along since this was our first year of mentoring and we clearly still needed teaching. Haymitch was probably far beyond coherence by this point, passed out in a pool of puke like he was our first night on the train last year. Typical Haymitch.

Although now, having won my own Games and been through the horrors he had, I could understand wanting to drown that in drink. I still have plenty of nightmares to add to my supply from before even going in the Games – now, along with the usual screaming at my father to run ones, I have more, about the mutts, Cato, Thresh, Foxface, and worst of all… Rue.

I would never forget that moment… bursting through the trees, spotting Rue on the ground.

"_Katniss!"_

Then that _boy_, more like _monster_, speared her in the stomach. And I shot him in the throat. I sang all of the lines of my song, Rue's final lullaby. And I cried as she died in my arms. Then… the flowers. I coated her in handfuls of bright wildflowers, around her face and her hair, hiding the wound. And I said goodbye forever.

As I wandered the train, I found my sister's room. She was curled up on her soft bed, dressed in a silky white nightgown. Slipping under the covers, I gathered her gently into my arms. Prim had cried herself to sleep, and was now breathing in a rhythmic lull that reminded me of the waves of the ocean at District Four, that I had seen briefly on the Victory Tour.

Hugging Prim tightly, I vowed I would never have to say goodbye forever again.

_TADA! U like? *fiddles with sweatshirt* *eats more hershey's kisses* noms… well, turns out I'm gonna be using this for a school project! Wish me luck!_

~DeaththeKidKat


	2. The Capitol

**Heya! As I promised, only working on this now. :3 hope you like it!**

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Prim's POV

The next morning, I woke up, yawning. To my surprise, I felt the comforting warmth of someone spread-eagled next to me. Turning my head, I caught a glimpse of sleek brown hair in a rumpled braid. Smiling, I snuggled down closer to my sister. Katniss had always looked out for me. I knew she would do everything in her power to make sure I come out of the arena alive. This will be a first – no-one's ever had their _sister_ for a mentor before.

My slight movement woke Katniss, and she stirred, stretching. When she noticed I was awake she smiled – the small, soft smile that only I could ever seem to extract from her.

"Good morning, little duck," she whispered, smoothing the back of my nightgown. Giggling, I wormed my way towards her, turning over so I could hug her tight. She was a bit surprised for a moment, but then hugged me back gently.

"What's for breakfast?" I asked reflexively, forgetting for a moment where we were. Then background noise of the train engine and the feeling of speeding forward caught up to me, and I frowned.

Noticing, Katniss kissed me lightly on the forehead. "Come on, let's go find out."

I never once let go of her shirt all the way down the train's hallway, hanging on with a death grip. We entered the dining room to find it deserted but for Peeta and Effie, both of whom were talking softly while Peeta dipped rolls in hot chocolate. That one sight seemed to startle my sister, and she pursed her lips like she was reliving some conflicting memory. Putting on her bright face (the one I knew I could see right through), Katniss waltzed up and plunked down in a chair across from Peeta, nodding to him rather coldly.

I frowned at my sister, sitting down next to her, still throttling the hem of her blouse. She clearly hadn't changed since the reaping, still dressed in her now-messy blouse and thigh-length green skirt. Gazing at the spread before me, my eyes widened and I actually let out a little gasp.

Mounds of apples, bananas, grapes, pears, peaches, apricots, and other fruits I didn't know the names of beckoned from their thrones upon pristine white plates. Gleaming porcelain held strawberry jam, blackberry preserves, and raspberry jelly. Jugs full of pure white milk, orange juice, apple cider, and countless other beverages sat in cold baths of ice cubes. There were heaping platters of rolls, the ones Peeta was eating, and the mug of cocoa in front of my small plate. I reached out and drank practically all of the creamy brown liquid in one gulp, giggling in delight at the wonderful taste.

The look on my face was enough to make Katniss happy. Laughing quietly along with me, she gulped down her hot cocoa and then teased me on my milk mustache, while I teased her about hers.

Peeta was watching us with an unreadable look on his face, but his eyes glinted with… was that regret? Nostalgia? Wishes for a happier future? Memories of a conflicting past?

At this point, I was a little too absorbed in the food to care. I devoured three apples in as many minutes, and set to work demolishing a plate of fluffy pancakes an attendant set in front of me.

"This is delicious!" I exclaimed to my sister. Smiling, she ruffled my hair and handed me another roll. I decided to try what Peeta had done, and asked a Capitol person for more cocoa. He came back with some and I slowly began breaking off bits of the roll and drowning it in chocolate.

I knew that Katniss was doing her best to distract me. To make sure if I did die, I'd die happy. Or at least happy _before_ I died.

"Oh look, we're almost here!" Effie trilled, pointing. I looked up with my mouth stuffed with roll when we were plunged into darkness. I swallowed hard and cowered against Katniss. _Dad… it's like when he went into the mine that day. I remember him leaving. He went underground. __**And he didn't come back.**_

Shrieking a little, I closed my eyes tight. Only my sister's reassuring embrace kept me from fainting, or running away. When the tunnel ended and everything was lit up again (they'd kept the lights on dim inside the train), Effie and Rory were staring at me with concern.

"Are you okay?" Peeta asked from Katniss' other side. I nodded, still swallowing.

"I don't like tunnels," I whispered. My sister gave me a comforting and sympathetic smile – she'd felt the same way. Then I noticed something else outside the window.

Running to the side of the train, I gazed out the glass with my jaw hanging. "Oh, wow!" I managed. Rory joined me and let out a little gasp of amazement.

The Capitol was gigantic! Buildings colored candy red, bubblegum pink, canary yellow, pine green, iridescent deep blue. Streets glittering with golden light as the sun peeked its way above the peaks surrounding the city. And _people._ The people were bizarre! I'd seen them on TV, of course, but never in person… compared to the surgical alterations I was fixated on, Effie's shockingly orange hair seemed perfectly normal.

"Pretty, isn't it?" Katniss whispered, clasping my hand in hers. But then I remembered the reason I was there and hugged her tightly, wishing I could never let go.


	3. Chariot Rides

**Hmm… idk if I'm going to keep putting AN's in here. I have to use this for school so… :3**

o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o

Katniss' POV

As I clenched Prim's hand tightly in mine, I couldn't help but remember my own Games, the horrors that would soon await my little sister. I couldn't bear the thought of it.

I had no time to brood on my thoughts, however, because the train was pulling up to the station. Swarms of Capitol people, some bearing clumsily-handmade signs with slogans like 'KatnissxPeeta Forever' and 'love is beautiful' or other silly things. I even glimpsed a few 'Prim For the Win!' posters, which made me smile. Maybe she'd have some sponsors, and there's no way anyone was going to count her out.

Not with me as a sister.

And mentor as well. As we stepped out into a limo that cruised down the streets, eventually joining up with eleven others, Prim just kept looking at everything like it was one huge toy shop. I couldn't begrudge her the longing to remember something beautiful before being launched into the horror store of the arena.

When we reached the Remake Center, Cinna appeared, smiling, and grabbed both me and Prim by the hand. Remembering we were probably on camera, I blew Peeta a kiss before being thrust into a different room.

My prep team was, as always, overjoyed to see me, fluttering around squealing about trivial Capitol stuff. Today, for once, they only had a little time for me, as Cinna was planning something spectacular for Prim. I cursed inwardly. _Let's hope it doesn't have anything to do with my fire. Or my mockingjay. The Capitol __**really**__ wouldn't like that._

I was just getting the brief makeover, to make me look nice. They slipped a flashing red and orange sleeveless gown over my head, just a rather simple evening dress. My time as the Girl On Fire was obviously remembered. The Gamemakers had a laugh with that one last year.

They bundled me into a limo and quickly guided me to the Training Center, where I waited on a platform with the other mentors. Peeta was there, wearing a white tux with a blazer to match my dress. Haymitch was dressed the same. Frowning, I stepped up to them and whispered, "Are we really going for the team effect this year?"

"Get used to it, sweetheart. We can try it with those two… do they have any history together?" Haymitch mused.

I shrugged. "They know each other, mostly through me. Rory is Gale's little brother and so of course they recognize me and Prim, I come by often enough. But there's probably not enough for a convincing backstory." My face sobered and I stared down at my glimmering red fancy shoes. "I have to let Rory die to save Prim," I whispered. "How have you managed it, Haymitch? Every year, you have to choose. Between the girl and the boy. Or just not choose at all and let them die. Why?"

My old mentor let out a snort of weary laughter. "Easy, sweetheart. Because none of them seemed like they actually wanted to win. They didn't have a fighting chance, so I figured why waste more stuff on them when they won't need it?"

"Haymitch…" Peeta warned, but just then the trumpets sounded and the chariots began to pull out.

First, of course, was District 1, beautiful as always in perfect white and golden silk cloth that wrapped around both of them several times like a toga. District 2 were bloodthirsty warriors, District 3 took Cinna's idea of lighting up their tributes with glitter and shiny silver wires that caught the light. The chariots rolled by slowly, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10… and then 11. To my horror, a little girl that was probably fourteen but didn't look much older than eight was trembling next to an equally slim, pale sixteen year old boy. The girl was dark-skinned, like Rue, but the boy looked nothing like Thresh. I shook my head to keep from thinking of all District 11 kids as dark-skinned and either small like a tiny swallow or hulking like Thresh. I managed to tear my eyes away from them when District 12 rolled out of the Remake Center.

I heard the gasps and 'oohs' of the crowd, but my eyes were fixed on Prim. Both she and Rory were wearing slender black tunics that glittered slightly in the light, and wore glimmering red and orange boots that looked like they were on fire. The simple black crowns placed on their brows lit up every few seconds with a glowing coal-like quality. And the best – and worst – part was their entire look.

_Cinna lit my little sister on fire!_ I thought frantically. Then I realized he'd set me on fire last year too. Scowling, I just watched slightly unhappily but still in awe.

"Uh oh, Cinna's becoming a pyro," I heard Peeta mutter and smacked him on the arm. "What?" he yelped softly. "He lit us on fire last year. And now he's got it in for Prim and Rory too."

I rolled my eyes but grinned and turned back to watch the show.

Prim and Rory were both alight, blazing with fake flame that came from every part of their tunics. That contrasting with the deep iridescent black of the tunics made out for a dazzling display. Their makeup resembled that of mine last year, barely any to keep them recognizable. The shadows flickered across their faces, illuminating them beautifully. I also noticed they weren't holding hands. But Cinna had chose an interesting choice of demeanor – both were staring forward, clearly a little nervous but not recognizing the crowd at all, staying impassive even as the Capitol people screamed their names.

It was a look that clearly said, _we will never forgive you._

And I liked it.

o.O.o

Prim's POV

As Cinna helped me out of the chariot and doused my flames, I realized I was shaking a little. "That was terrible!" I complained. "I never want to do that again."

Cinna smiled. "Well, you're going to have to. Just wait until you see the interview getup! You're going to love it." I wasn't so sure. If it was anything like last year, I'd be on fire again. With jewels. But still.

"Am I going to be on fire again?" Rory asked nervously. The stylist laughed and shook his head while Portia grinned as she was removing Rory's crown. I glanced at my fellow tribute and wondered what Katniss and Haymitch have planned for him. Will they really make us lovebirds? Or are they going to let one of us die? I shook my head to quit thinking of such thoughts.

"Right, we'll show you to your rooms," Portia announced briskly, glaring at the other stylists who were shooting disgusted glances our way. Clasping Rory's hand, she helped him down off the chariot and we high-tailed it over to the elevators, where Katniss, Peeta, and Haymitch were watching. Scooping me off my feet, Katniss slung me around into a piggyback position, smiling softly at me. I giggled and wrapped my arms around her neck. Why was she being so affectionate all of a sudden? Then I caught the slight nod that Haymitch gave in my sister's direction and my happiness faltered. Of course. It was all a show to get the Capitol people to like us more. They probably did show footage of us coming into the Training Center, so my piggyback ride was probably on camera.

I wished it could have been real. I saw Katniss looking over her shoulder at my face and blinking, trying to convey that it _was_ real and she probably would have done it, cameras or not. This made me relax and I slumped a little against her shoulders as she stepped into the elevator.

Rory pressed the 12 button excitedly and we zoomed up trapped in the perfect crystal walls, gazing out at the wonder of the Capitol. It was so pretty and bright at night.

Once we reached the sitting room, Katniss set me down on a plush couch and snuggled up next to me, wrapping her arms around my shoulders. Peeta, in turn, put a hand around Katniss, and we sat together contentedly, me a little alienated by the strange sight of someone hugging my sister. But I shrugged it off and watched the big TV screen for the recap of the opening ceremonies.

It was too bad that the time was passing so quickly. I would have liked the Capitol, staying here in the Training Center. It was nice.

o.O.o

Prim's POV

Training was actually kind of fun. I practiced some archery, quickly discovering I was actually kind of good at it. Knife throwing was my forte, apparently, so I steered clear of that per my mentor's instructions. Katniss was a pretty good mentor, having gone through this herself, and advised me on ways to stay away from the Careers, play up my strengths, and hide most of my talent from the other tributes – even Rory.

I decimated the edible plants section, as I was told Katniss did last year, and tried throwing a spear. It clearly wasn't for me. The Careers were brutal, hacking dummies to pieces and chucking bags of sand like they were pebbles.

My competition was _not_ going to be easy.

o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o

**~DeaththeKidKat**


	4. Interviews and Preparations

**Alright, next chapter. *sweats* let's hope this'll be enough for my language arts teacher… o.O**

o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o

Katniss' POV

As I waited for Prim to come out in her interview dress, I couldn't help remembering the scores they'd flashed on the TV last night. Seven, just like Rue. But my little sister had fallen asleep before she'd had a chance to tell us anything. My heart tugged painfully as I remembered her peaceful slumber, blonde hair strewed around her pillows haphazardly.

I hadn't even seen what Cinna had cooked up for her yet, but I was excited. He'd set out a long dress that looked suspiciously like a wedding gown, except it was shimmering with yellow, hints of blue and white. As I shifted impatiently next to Peeta, who was in a slick black tuxedo, it flashed a little in the artificial Capitol light.

Then there was a gasp and a sigh, as the tributes all stepped up onto the platform. The District One girl was in a dress rather similar to Glimmer's, from last year – golden and cut off barely below her butt. She was almost as pretty, too. I rolled my eyes as the others slowly filed into their places, but it felt like I had forgotten to breathe when Prim picked her way cautiously up the stairs and into her seat.

My little sister looked like a princess. Her skirt flowed all the way to the floor, with a one-sleeve top sparkling with tiny reflective diamonds. She was practically glowing with glimmering red light, rubies and garnets meticulously arranged in patterns resembling flowers – no, not flowers. Primroses. All along the hem and up to about thigh-height. Prim's makeup was simple, but little tiny roses were stenciled along her cheeks and in the corners of her eyes, flashing with glitter. She was radiant.

Rory was looking handsome with his carefully combed black hair and smooth red blazer, with – ironically – a piece of what looked coal carefully arranged in his lapel, in place of a flower. It actually looked kind of good.

I zoned out for most of the other tribute's interviews, but I focused again when Prim drifted up nervously. As she seated herself and shook Caesar Flickerman's hand with her own trembling one, then tried to relax a little, tensely glancing at me. I gave her a reassuring grin.

"So, I'm sure everybody is eager to welcome a special young tribute this year – Primrose Everdeen!" The Capitol roared their approval. Caesar continued on smoothly, easily and calmly navigating Prim into the best spotlight possible. She replied to everything in a quiet, quivering voice, but bravely raised her head so her blue eyes stared at both Caesar and the Capitol with a rather defiant glint. I knew the feeling. What could they do now? Just make her life hell in the arena? They can't hurt me or Peeta either – this starstruck-lovers thing was way too popular in the Capitol. It looked like we'd won the crowd, for now.

Finally Caesar got to the question everyone wanted answered – "What do you think of being chosen for the second time, but this time actually going into the arena?"

Prim's answer both terrified me and made me undeniably proud.

"I think I'm going to win – no matter the cost."

o.O.o

Peeta's POV

I watched Prim with a slight smile on my face. A bit snarky, but all true. And I knew Katniss would pay anything to make sure she won too. It crossed my mind that this time we were actually, truly competing. Rory vs. Prim. I had to decide between the obvious duty of protecting this scared little boy and the love of my life – and Haymitch had already decided for me. Before stepping into the limo that would take us to the City Circle, our old mentor had cornered me and whispered a quick instruction in my ear. _"You have to make sure Rory comes out of this alive. Whatever your bias is for Prim, ignore it." _Then he'd straightened and nodded at me before slipping into the long black car. I brooded over his warning for a while then conceded that it was for the best. Also, technically I had a bias against and for Rory, because of Katniss' relationship to him but also because of Gale's relationship for his brother. I had to ignore that, though. All that mattered was getting Rory out alive.

I refused to think about what that meant – Prim dying.

Shaking my head ever so slightly to clear my mind of these depressing thoughts, I turned my full attention to where Rory was stepping up, shaking Caesar's hand and seating himself. Watching intently, I silently willed him to do what we'd practiced. _Cool. Calm. Tell a joke or two._

He actually made me quite proud – quietly but calmly answering everything, then adding with a small grin a little joke about coal and flowers, which led to a bout of Caesar's laughter and then follow-up puns. Everything went well, the buzzer went off, and Rory stepped back to his seat.

Now all that was left was the arena.

o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o

**oh. my. God. This is so short! D: only 850+ words? I suck. Truly. Ah well. This is all I'm using for my report, so wish me luck! ^.^'**

**~DeaththeKidKat**


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